


Jane-centric Series of Eccentric Stories

by Dristi5683



Category: Captain America (Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Will Add as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-08-12 05:08:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7921717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dristi5683/pseuds/Dristi5683
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A nice tidy pile to store my growing one-shots of Jane. Consists of lokane and Jane/Bucky. Each chapter is titled with pairing. — Prompts are welcome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jane/Loki

Prompt request from Iamartermisday on Tumblr. Lokane, set after TDW. 

oOoOo

Jane stood at the counter, trying to correct her seat for her flight to Sweden. Apparently, she'd just been bumped up to first class, which was wrong. She wasn't a part of any special program that gave her such privileges. 

The man stared at her with a disbelieving tilt to his brows. 

"If you can just give me back my original seat, I would be delighted," Jane said. 

He shrugged and started typing, only to stop and stare at the computer. "Must be your lucky day. You benefited from a glitch in the system."

Loki. She should've known. "It's not luck and it's not a glitch. Trust me."

His face transformed into a passive mask. She knew that look. She'd seen it on her professors, peers, and the scientific community in general. They had all thought she was a few stars short of a constellation for pursuing such an unconventional path, but here she was, on her way to accept a Nobel prize in astrophysics.

"Ma'am, the flight is full, and your old seat has already been given away."

She tapped her ticket on the counter, wondering how she could thwart the God of Mischief. He often did things like this, even though he knew it drove her crazy. If he wasn't in hiding, disguising himself as Odin, then she'd be able to explain the situation and correct the problem. 

"Can you let me know who has my old seat, so I can ask if they want to trade?"

He shook his head and went on to explain the airline's policies when someone grabbed her suitcase. Her heart jumped to her throat. He had her laptop with all of her latest data and research. That was months of work, not backed up to anything for security reasons. 

"Hey," she called. 

He didn't turn around. 

Clenching her ticket, she darted around the line of people waiting to board, and followed the tall man. His absurdly long gait made him look like he was gliding, and her look like she was a Flinstone driving a foot-powered car. 

"Stop!" 

Everyone's heads turned in her direction, but no one bothered to help. Indignation spiked the hot anger already boiling inside her.

"Get the fuck back here," she shouted at his back. "That's my suitcase!"

The man turned around a corner, and she quickly followed suit. 

One moment, the spacious, sunlit terminal filled her vision, the next it spun into a blur as she was twirled into the wall. A warm body trapped her against it. She tensed and sucked in a breath, ready to scream for help.

"Such vulgar language, my dear Jane."

Loki. 

Her bound muscles softened at the smooth timber of his voice, and yet her gaze darted around the wide corridor. Security guards were coming their way. 

"You shouldn't be here," she told him. "You might be seen."

He tsked her, but his lips lifted at her fretting. "I wouldn't have had to come, if you weren't making such a fuss over my gift."

The sound of the guard's boots clomping on the tiled floor and the jingling of their keys had her stomach twisting into knots. "Loki, you should go. If they find out you're alive, Thor will come for you. Too much is at stake. We can't forget what the future has shown—"

His mouth closed over hers, silencing her protests and igniting a fire deep in her core. She lifted to her toes and touched the smooth line of his jaw to deepen the kiss. Only the fabled ambrosia might compare to the taste of him. It made her head swim and her body float. 

Nothing existed except the passionate grip he used to pull her flush to him, or his scent that filled her with desire. She fisted her hand in his hair and moaned in both pleasure and agony. She ached for him. It'd been too long since he'd torn himself away from Asgard's preparations to visit her. Far too long. 

He broke the seal of their lips and placed his forehead against hers. They panted, breathing each other in as they came down from their high. 

"Expect me in your hotel room when you arrive." He took a step back, staring at her with with a hunger that matched her own, then turned to disappear around the corner.

She fell back against the wall and glanced down at her suitcase with a wide grin. 

oOoOo

Thanks for reading!! And never to forget my lovely sister, thanks for always telling it to me straight.

Up Next: a Winter Solstice ficlet, thought it will be at least twice as long as this one


	2. Jane/Bucky

My first attempt at fluff. 

oOoOo

Jane searched for her assigned table amongst the Avenger-styled carnival booths teeming with people. The sound of a roaring roller coaster ride along with the accompanying screams filled the air. 

" _Kotyonok_."

The familiar soft, yet gritty voice somehow cut right through the din. The dulcet tones reminded her of warm sand hugging her bare feet and scrunching between her toes. 

Clenching her laptop, she made her way to him with a thin smile. His little Russian joke was not funny. 

"You're late," he said. 

Her gaze dipped down to the untouched mountains of cookies on the table before him, and then the banner using their semi-celebrity status to sell the treats for this year's charity event. 

For the love of science, did he have to be her partner? Tony had put them together on purpose. She just knew it. 

"You could try being a little friendlier," she told the fearsome Winter Soldier.

His brows lowered. 

"That look right there explains the lack of sales and the wide berth around our booth." She gestured to the only empty pocket on the fairgrounds. It was like a moat protecting his castle of cookies. With just a glance from the dark-haired man, people scurried away.

Sighing, she pulled out her chair and placed her laptop on the table. "Look, I don't want to be here either. I have enough work to keep an entire team busy for weeks, except it's only just me and Darcy, so"—she plugged in the external battery—"let's just get through this day." 

As she searched the graphs and data charts, the silence between them stretched on. His eyes often landed on her, she could feel them like rays of sun shining down from between parting clouds. There were times when he'd just stare at her, no doubt out of boredom, and because he knew it would annoy her. 

She tore her gaze away from the screen and looked at him straight on. "What?"

The corner of his mouth twitched. " _Ty zhenshchina moyey mechty_."

Tingles pricked her skin both pleasantly and painfully. As much as she loved hearing him speak the beautiful language, she hated how he used it to make fun of her. If he did it to everyone, then she wouldn't have taken it so personally, but he tormented only her. 

The first time she'd met him had been during his reconnaissance of Stark Tower and all its rooms. Steve had been with him. The two were practically inseparable during the early days. Mr. Barnes had looked like a wild animal taken into captivity, fierce and yet skittish, tracing the confines of his new cage and sniffing out any possible threats. 

She had walked in on him messing with her equipment and pounced. While she'd been debriefed on his special situation, all she saw was a person poking their nose where it didn't belong. To say she chastised him was an understatement. 

After she'd cooled off, she sought him out to apologize only to be greeted with ' _kotyonok_.' And so it began. 

Shaking her head, she directed her attention back to her work. No matter how much she focused, the numbers and letters meant nothing to her. She adjusted her chair so that her back was more angled to him than her profile. 

If she had a talent for learning foreign languages, her curiosity would've demanded her to become fluent just to spite him. Unfortunately, she was left being the brunt of his childish joke. And a poor one at that. She had dealt with far better bullies in grade school. 

An hour passed with no one to disturb her work and his brooding. The day might not be as big of a waste as she'd imagined. 

"You've got to be kidding me," Tony said on the other side of the table all decked out in his Iron Man suit. "It's been over two hours and not one cookie has been sold."

She shrugged and downed the rest of her water. Mr. Barnes said nothing. 

"Think of the good publicity," Tony went on. At their lack of enthusiasm, he added, "The kids?"

Her gaze drifted back to the discrepancy in her data collection. 

Stark placed his armored hands between the stacks of peanut butter, and caramel crunch cookies. "All right, tell me what you want."

Both she and Mr. Barnes quirked a brow at him.

"What will it take to get a little more cooperation?"

"The latest high resolution handheld spectrometer," she said without hesitation. Their expression made her want to laugh. "SHIELD's astrology budget is a shallow pool and it would make my expeditions a lot easier."

"My motorcycle back," Mr. Barnes chimed in. "Upgraded."

She'd heard something about his motorcycle being taken away because of his overzealousness on the last mission. Anything beyond that wasn't discussed. 

"Okay then. How about we make it a competition?" They looked at each other, then at him as he continued. "Whoever sells the most gets their wish granted."

She smiled and nodded her acceptance. Mr. Barnes would be lucky if he got rid of one.

oOoOo

"That's cheating," she told Mr. Barnes. 

"Last I checked, there weren't any rules laid down, doll."

The girls swooned at his surprisingly charming smile. Literally swooned. What more, there was a line of them waiting their turn to touch the infamous bionic arm. The one in front of him bent over to show off her very impressive cleavage and stroked the metal plates of his palm with a suggestive glint in her eye. 

Jane had no cleavage to speak of, not to mention she lacked supermodel legs and other physical attributes she might use to lure people to her side of the table. She picked up her phone, found Darcy's name, and stabbed it to dial her. Her intern turned paid assistant picked up after several rings. 

"Jane? Did you blow something up?"

"No." She huffed. She hadn't done that in ages. "I need your help at the cookie booth. Unbutton your blouse and get down here."

Mr. Barnes eyed her with a wry smile, but said nothing. 

"Shouldn't you buy me a drink first," Darcy asked. 

"I'll give you a day off."

"A week and we've got a deal."

"Fine, just get here before the cookies are all gone." She hung up and scowled at the blonde stepping up to the Winter Soldier with a sway to her womanly hips. 

"Dr. Foster?"

She glanced at the young man with glasses and a shirt that said, The Universe Is Made Of Protons, Neutrons, Electrons, And Morons. She chuckled despite herself. "Yes?"

He swallowed. "The Nobel laureate Dr. Jane Foster who created the Foster Theory, saved Earth from Malekith, and is currently close to developing a functioning Einstein-Rosen bridge?"

Her cheeks warmed. This kind of attention rarely happened to her. People were far more interested in what they could see, like Tony's suit, Sam's wings, Clint's amazing aim, and the Avengers' attractiveness. 

"I wouldn't go that far, but you have the right person." She gestured to a cookie. "Can I interest you in one?"

He nodded and held out his wallet.

A bright smile overcame her and she waved it away. "They're just a dollar each. No need to hand over your life savings."

His brows pulled together, but then he realized what he'd done and fumbled for a moment. He took out a few dollars. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Doctor." After grabbing his cookies, he wished her luck and stumbled away from them while constantly looking back at her. 

The warmth in her cheeks flared as she realized Mr. Barnes had been paying attention to the bizarre interaction. "I'm surprised he didn't ask for your number," he said. 

"Please." She busied herself with putting away the money. "He was just a little star struck. I'd act the same if I were to meet Dr. Hawking."

He held out his arm for the next person in line to touch without so much as a glance in their direction. " _Ti takaya neobichnaya_."

Slamming her cash drawer closed, she opened her mouth to speak when Darcy came running up to her in a tight black dress that left little to the imagination. "Were you already wearing that?"

"Of course not." She lifted her oversized purse and shook it. "I'm always prepared, though."

"Thank goodness for that." She stepped out of the way for Darcy to sashay behind the table and take Jane's place. Men and women were already stopping to talk to her. 

When Natasha walked by, Jane ran to catch up with her, then lunged to close the distance. The red-head caught her arm and spun her around to end up with her back pressed up against her and a gun against her head. "Foster?"

"Nice to see you too," Jane said half-teasingly. 

People stopped to watch the episode, but continued on with a sigh of disappointment when Natasha holstered her weapon and released Jane. "You know not to sneak up on me like that."

"Sorry, I'm in a rush." She looked back to find the Winter Soldier watching them. She turned so he wouldn't be able to read her lips. "I need your help."

The agent narrowed her eyes, but nodded for Jane to continue. 

"Mr. Barnes keeps speaking in Russian. I think he's making fun of me and it's driving me crazy."

"What does he say?"

Jane tried her best to mimic the difficult sounds. "Ko— _kotyonok_."

Natasha's lips spread wide into a snickering grin. 

"What? Is it bad?"

Her face transformed back into her normal serious one. "Next time he says something to you, you tell him this, ' _potzeluy menya._ '"

"But—"

"Say it to me."

Jane obeyed because that's what one did when Agent Romanoff commanded you to do something. It took several tries before Natasha grudgingly approved her pronunciation. By the time she got back, their booth was teeming with people and over half of the cookies were gone. She had to fight her way to get through the crowd. 

"Good job, Darcy," she told the charismatic young woman. 

Her assistant stuffed more dollars into the overflowing cash drawer. "What would you do without me?"

"Lead a sad and lonely existence."

The two shared a smile. Jane's quickly fell at the sound of Mr. Barnes low and rough voice that made her want to shiver in delight. She couldn't hear him clearly amongst all the racket, but she knew he'd just said something in Russian. 

Squaring her shoulders to him, she repeated what Natasha had told her to say. 

His gaze jerked to hers, brows raised so high they nearly camouflaged with the ridiculously luxurious hair crowning his head and cascading down to his shoulders. He got to his feet. "What'd you just say?"

The crowd quietened and she could've sworn Darcy's soft 'uh oh' echoed in the still air. 

Whatever insult she'd said had clearly gotten to him. The only problem was how to handle the consequences. Her confident posture almost crumbled at the thought of really upsetting him. She didn't think he would hurt her. He might be annoying, but she'd never felt afraid of him. 

" _Povtorite, pozhaluysta_ ," he said, or maybe asked. It was hard to tell with her heart pounding in her ears. He'd stepped to her and his close proximity made her body respond in the most absurd ways, like her palms going clammy, her pulse jumping about like a bucking bronco, and her breath shortening to nearly a pant. Those odd sensations reignited her ire. 

Raising her chin, she repeated the insult again. She would've preferred to say something else, so as to better spar with him, but those two words were it for her. 

Regardless, it made his eyes light up into a blazing fire. He slid a hand around her waist and pulled her flush to him. He placed a kiss on her lips that made her eyelids drift close despite the shock coursing through her veins. 

Somehow, her hands had wound themselves into his smooth tresses, drawing him even closer to her. She was on the tips of her toes meeting his every movement with gusto. 

By the time he pulled back, she was breathless and trembling with desire. She looked up into his eyes. From this new and thrilling vantage point she could finally get a good look at them. They were the color of a peaceful early morning sky still holding onto a hint of the night's darkness. 

She had no idea what she'd told him, but if it had that kind of an effect on the solemn and distant soldier, then she'd say it until her lips went numb. " _Potzeluy menya_."

His full smile warmed her more than a crackling fire on a cold winter day. She found herself mirroring him, and the experience was most agreeable. 

" _S udovol'stviyem_ ," he said into her ear before dipping down to plant knee-buckling kisses along the curve of her neck. 

Not caring about the crowd hooting at them, or the few cookies left, or even the promise of a new spectrometer, she let herself enjoy the pleasurable attentions of the man who'd somehow crept into her life and stollen her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for a little angst. I just can't help myself. Does that mean I failed??
> 
> I used the carnival idea from Artemis Day's on the Winter Solstice collection of fics, chapter 21. Check it out. It's great!
> 
> Thanks for reading! And if you know anything about me, then you already know that my sister is awesome for always willing to look over my writing. 
> 
> Here are the translations in order they were used. I did the best I could with Google. Please correct me if I got anything wrong.  
> Kotyonok- kitten (term of endearment spoken to a girl)  
> ty zhenshchina moyey mechty - You're the woman of my dreams.  
> ti takaya neobichnaya - You are so unusual.  
> Potzeluy menya - Kiss me.  
> Povtorite, pozhaluysta - Please repeat.  
> S udovol'stviyem - My pleasure.


	3. Jane/Loki

A knock on the door pulled Jane out of her work on the computer. "Darcy, will you get that?" she asked. 

Silence. 

_Knock. Knock._

Realizing that her old intern was back in college, Jane jumped out of her chair and leapt to the door. Upon opening it and seeing a tall man in an all-black suit standing outside, she swung the door closed. 

"SHIELD," she grumbled and plopped back in her chair. 

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

"Go away," Jane yelled with her eyes fixed on the computer screen, fingers flying over the keyboard. "I don't want any."

"Dr. Jane Foster." Despite being muffled, his voice still carried a smooth haughtiness that piqued her interest. "I'm with SHIELD, and—"

Jane stalked to the door and opened it just wide enough for her to peek out. "I know, and I don't care."

He gave her a smile that would've normally made her knees melt—he was awfully handsome with his long black hair and aristocratic nose, not to mention those green eyes lined with thick lashes—but he worked for SHIELD and, therefore, he was her nemesis. 

She went to close the door, but it wouldn't budge. Her gaze traced its length, but found nothing blocking it. 

"If I could have but a moment of your time," he said, though it came across as more of a demand. 

Her reply was a renewed effort to close the door. She planted her feet and pushed with her hands, then her shoulder, and finally her back. All to no avail. 

_What the?_

"Are you done?" he asked. 

_Never._

She darted over to her workbench and grasped one of her experiments using gravitational waves. Its heavy weight pulled a soft grunt from her lips as she hoisted it over her shoulder. Shifting on her feet, she pointed the cumbersome device at the door, flipped up the small screen to turn on the detector, and quickly adjusted the filters until she spotted something odd. 

Unidentifiable matter surrounded not only the door, but the man standing partially behind it. She tore her gaze off the screen to look with her eyes, but found nothing out of the ordinary. Her breath caught in her throat. Just who—what—was he?

"May I come in now?" His polite words held a touch of irritation and a heaping of impatience. 

Blowing out a breath, she placed her cheek against the cool metal and aimed the device.

"Dr. Foster?" 

As he placed his hand around the edge of the door, she pulled the trigger. 

The amount of energy that shot out of the Mass Disrupter in a single burst pushed her back a step. The invisible energy washed over the door and the man before dispersing into the atmosphere. To any normal person, it would seem as if nothing had happened. To Jane, it was vindication.

Dropping the device onto the table, she zipped back to the door and closed it, but not before she caught him staring at his hands, as if they were not his own. Chuckling to herself, she latched the lock and turned the deadbolt, then strode back to her desk. 

"Smug jerk," she said under her breath before refocusing on her computer to type in everything she'd just seen and done. SHIELD must be experimenting with some new tech. Too bad she was one step ahead of them. 

"Now, aren't you an interesting creature." His mellifluous voice caressed her ear and made her spine go rigid. Based on its clarity, he was most certainly in the room with her, not more than five feet away. 

As slow as she could bear, Jane twisted in her seat to find the door still closed and the locks still intact. She knew for a fact none of the windows were open—the midday sun baking the dusty earth and boiling the air was not open-window weather. He had to have teleported inside. 

Piecing together his looks and his ability to do what was currently impossible, she felt the blood plummet from her face to her toes. 

Loki. 

Springing to her feet, she backed away from the man who'd tried to take over her world. 

He smiled, displaying bright even teeth. "You finally recognize me?"

She bumped into one of her metal shelving units. Something poked her hip, but its discomfort was nothing compared to having Loki in the same room as her. She felt around the shelf for something she could use to protect herself, even if it was futile. Her Mass Disrupter would be ideal, but he currently stood next to it. 

"Well, fear not, my dear." He lifted his open hands, and Jane's fingers clutched a wrench, then hurled it at him. 

It disappeared mid-flight. 

"I said fear not." His harsh tone was accompanied by a giant invisible fist that gripped her arms tight to her sides. 

Jane tried to think of another plan, and not focus on the God of Mischief staring her down or the rapid pounding of her heart. 

He exhaled and smoothed out the nonexistent wrinkles in his suit coat. The anger hardening his handsome features faded.

"As part of my rehabilitation and recompense," he paused, as if in distaste, "I've been working for SHIELD and aiding the Avengers."

"You what?"

"And they've sent me to inform you of the threat HYDRA poses to your safety if you stay here."

When he finished and paused for a response, she was gaping at him. It took a long moment for her to come back to herself. Mirth bubbled up from her chest, and made her laugh so hard she would've doubled over if not for his magic holding her upright. 

"I see nothing amusing about this," he chided her. 

A tear leaked from the corner of her eye and her side ached from her guffaws. "You— You—"

"Spit it out, Jane Foster."

She forced air into her lungs and blinked away the tears blurring her vision. "You're their lackey now." The magic supporting her weight vanished, and she dropped to the floor like a discarded puppet. "Hey!"

He ignored her complaint and said, "For your safety, you must come with me."

Brushing herself off, she got to her feet and stared him in the eyes. "Like hell I will."

His brows lowered. "Is it clogged ears or an inferior intellect that prevents you from understanding my words?"

"I understand you just fine, thank you very much." She pointed to the door. "Now, get out of my lab."

Through a clenched jaw, he said, "You stubborn, daft wench."

"And you're an arrogant asshole with daddy issues."

The temperature dropped. 

Shivering, she wrapped her arms around herself and breathed out a thick puff of air. 

His gaze flicked to the already dispersing cloud, and he loosened his fists. The room returned back to its normal warmth as he stood straighter and looked down his nose at her. "I see we are at a stalemate."

"I concur."

"Then you leave me with no choice."

One moment she was standing in her lab, the next, blackness swirled around her only to disappear, exposing a relatively bare room covered in stainless steel. Her legs wobbled and she had to catch the utilitarian chair to stay upright. Nausea bowled her over, but she managed to keep her stomach's contents down. 

An alarm went off, screeching its piercing sound and flashing a red light that made her even dizzier. 

"Where have you taken me?" she asked. 

"Why, SHIELD, of course." His unaffected voice grated her nerves. 

She collapsed into the chair and placed her forehead on the blessedly cool metal table. Focusing on revenge helped anchor her world. She'd strip him of his magic, tie him to a swivel chair, and spin him around until he felt exactly as she did. All she needed was her Mass Disrupter, a mallet, and some barbed wire. 

The door burst open, clanging against the wall. "Did HYDRA attack her?" a familiar voice asked.

Before Loki could answer, Jane pushed herself upright and glared at Agent Coulson. "No, they did not. Nor will they. You just can't stand not having everyone under your thumb, so you send this asshole to kidnap me."

His mouth dropped open. "Kidnap?" Furrowed brows softened as he took in her and Loki. When his gaze settled on the tall man behind her, he said, "I thought I'd made it clear we have a no abduction policy."

"She wasn't cooperating."

"We warned you she wouldn't. Did you not read her dossier?"

Loki gave a dismissive huff. "Regardless, she's here now. Crisis averted. Problem solved."

Jane shook her head and made her way to the door on unsteady feet. 

"Where are you going?" Coulson asked, though he didn't try to bar her path. 

"Back to my lab."

"But—"

She stopped next to him in the doorway. "Cry HYDRA again and I swear I'll scream."

He closed his mouth, and she stepped around him out into the long hallway and picked a random direction to travel down. 

"Exit's the other way," Coulson called. 

Spinning on her heel, she strode back toward him. Each step brought more clarity that allowed her to raise her chin as she passed the short man. "SHIELD," she said the name like a curse. 

Before she could reach the end of the hallway, Loki appeared in front of her, making her stumble backwards. He was an infuriating wall with a haughty stance. 

"How do you do that?" she asked. 

"Magic."

Lifting a finger, she corrected him. "Quantum mechanics. I just have to develop some technology, create new—"

"Despite your unfortunate birth, I do believe you are the one Midgardian who might actually be capable of understanding the complexities involved."

She lifted a brow. "I thought I was daft."

He shrugged a shoulder. 

As she made to edge around him, he sidestepped, blocking her from going further. 

"You can't stop me from leaving," she declared. "I know my rights."

He grimaced, as if having to abide by some moral code was a burdensome inconvenience. "Yes, but you are still my mission, and I won't let your death mar my excellent record. I intend to be free of this world as quickly as possible. Do you understand me, Jane Foster?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You want to protect me? The woman who changed Thor? Who ruined your plans to become king of Asgard?"

The air crackled, making the hair on her arms rise. He stood as still as a menacing statue.

"That's what I thought," she said and brushed past him. Her bravado crumbled as soon as she was clear of him. Of their own accord, her legs moved faster and faster. Her hands and her breath shook, but she was determined to be free of him and SHIELD. 

Just before she rounded a corner, she looked back to find Loki gone, then ran face first into something both hard and soft. Black cloth stared at her, and for the first time she realized there were thin, dark green stripes woven into the fabric. 

She took a step back, rubbing her squished nose. "You can't hurt me." It was meant to be a reminder, but it came out more like a plea. 

"There was a time when I wanted to kill you."

A lump formed in the pit of her stomach, and she took another step back. 

"I wanted to torture you in front of a bound and gagged Thor. Show him what it is like to finally be the helpless one." His green eyes twinkled, as if he were fond of the memories. She took another step back. "But then New York happened and here I am." His gaze finally zeroed in on her, and she halted her retreat. "And here you are. Without your beloved Thor. Tell me, dear Jane. Why do you no longer hold his favor?"

The fear freezing her insides thawed under the heat of her irritation. "Don't play stupid, Loki. You know exactly what happened."

His face was a mask of confusion. "I have not had much contact with my brother, and when I do see him, he refuses to speak of you." Then he gave her a smug smile. "You do realize you've just confirmed my suspicions, right?"

Rolling her eyes, she moved around him and continued down another long hallway that was more populated than the last. People in suits went from one door to the next, while others disappeared into different hallways, all in a brisk, purposeful walk. She had no idea where she was going, but so long as it was away from him, then it was perfect.

Unfortunately, he easily kept pace with her shorter stride. "My guess is that he grew bored of you as he has with so many other lovely maidens," he said. 

Surprised by the compliment, even if it was a backhanded one, she glanced at him.

"So, am I right?" he asked, reminding her what they'd been talking about. 

"Wrong." 

His gaze boring into the side of her head was no different than a vicious headache.

"You're not lying," he finally said. 

When she didn't respond, he wrapped his long fingers around her arm and pulled her to a stop. "You broke it off." He stared at her in disbelief. "Why?"

She freed her arm from his slackened grip without much effort. "While it is none of your business, he wanted me to stay in Asgard...as his betrothed."

"I do not understand."

After waiting for a woman to pass them, she said, "I'm not ready for that. Besides, I have my work here. I have so much more I want to learn about the universe, and I can't do that as a queen bound to royal obligations."

He blinked at her, standing somehow even closer than before. "You are a conundrum."

"It's as simple as I've said. I want to be free to work as I wish: how, what, where, and when."

As baffled silence held him captive, she couldn't help but notice how enticing he smelled, and yet she couldn't put a finger on what the scent consisted of. She inhaled deeply and her toes curled. Shaking her head, she started walking again. 

"I know of a way to maintain your freedom and my perfect record," he announced. 

She stopped and turned. "Go on."

"You work in your lab under no authority but your own, and I stay with you to make sure HYDRA doesn't earn me a demerit."

Images flashed in her mind of his meticulous ways clashing with her organized chaos, of them butting heads over everything from food to shower schedules, of fighting coupled with periods of bitter silence, of reluctantly working together on one of her projects, of him saving her life time and time again, of her always having his back, of them kissing under a thousand twinkling stars. She swallowed. 

"What say you, Jane Foster?"

She watched him as closely as he watched her, all the while ignoring the warmth blossoming low in her belly.

"No," Jane finally announced, then turned and walked away again. This time though, as she listened to Loki following closely behind, doing his best to convince her of his proposal, a broad smile graced her lips and a bounce filled her step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this came from a dialogue prompt on Pinterest. I'm finding some good ones that'll help add to my collection of one shots.
> 
> Thanks for reading! And thanks to my sister and Mercury97 for looking over this at the last minute. Mercury is writing an awesome story, The Ties That Bind. Go check it out on FanFiction net. You won't regret it. :)
> 
> Up Next: Jane/Bucky


	4. Jane/Bucky

The phone rang, but Jane didn't move from her computer. There'd been an unprecedented amount of activity from her equipment last night and she needed to analyze the data to make sense of it all. 

On the fourth ring, Darcy clomped out of the kitchen to the sofa with a great sigh. Her irritation was meant to reach Jane's ears. There was no more coffee in the lab. Jane had finished it off several hours ago. It'd been a long night. 

"Hello?" her intern asked into the phone, dragging out the last vowel and making it sound more like an accusation than a question. 

Jane refocused her attention back on sifting through the numbers filling the screen. There had to be a pattern, or some kind of meaning to them. 

Three seconds or five minutes later, a hand appeared in between her and the monitor, waving emphatically. 

"Hey, Earth to Jane," Darcy called, much louder than necessary, since she was standing right next to her. 

Jane leaned back in her chair and rubbed at her eyes. "Take some money out of the emergency can and go get a coffee. I'm busy."

"You didn't hear a word I've been saying, did you?" Without waiting for an answer, she continued. "That was James. He has some extra whatever-you-call-its, and is on his way to bring it over."

Jane's heart fluttered. "Okay. Just tell him to put it on the table."

Darcy leaned on the desk and crossed her arms. "You know that's not why I'm telling you this."

"He's not interested in me." She tried to look around her at the monitor, but Darcy scooted over, blocking her view even further. 

"You should freshen up."

"I'm busy."

"You look like you just spent the night in a mosh pit."

Jane caught sight of her reflection in the screen and forced her hands to not move. Her mangled ponytail mocked her. 

James wasn't interested in her like that. He was just a man who'd moved into town not long ago and somehow became a staple in the community. He was nice and because he was just as strong as he was handsome—uncommonly so—he occasionally helped her with moving heavy equipment and bringing in boxes of old machines, things she could dismantle and remake into arrays, spectrometers, scanners, and various apparatuses she needed for her current project. 

"I know what you're thinking," Darcy claimed with a wry smile. "And he does like you. When you're around, his eyes are only on you. You always get first dibs when it comes to his free time. And he even brings you food when he visits. Jenny at the salon said he never does that for her."

Jane resisted the temptation to roll her eyes. "I have work to do."

She lifted her hands. "Fine."

As soon as her intern walked away, Jane smoothed back her hair before berating herself. He wasn't interested. Six months and he'd not once asked her out. 

Numbers were her world and stars were her lovers. A mystery to solve was all Jane needed in life, and her latest one was a doozy. Something was out there, creating disturbances in space that were anything but normal. Most scientists thought they were a natural phenomenon. Not her. They were in some way connected to her other work on Einstein-Rosen bridges. She was close, and last night brought her a hairsbreadth away from piecing it all together. She just knew it. 

The front door opened and Jane tensed. She kept her eyes trained on the monitor, though she heard the surprisingly light steps as James came into the lab. 

"Morning, Dr. Foster," he said as Darcy held open the door. "Another all-nighter?"

Her cheeks colored, and she hit the keys a tad too hard. One got lodged into its section and refused to budge. Thankfully, it hadn't messed up the formula she'd been entering. 

The table groaned under the weight of the box he'd sat down, then he and Darcy talked for a moment as paper bags were opened. The wonderful aroma of fresh coffee wafted toward her. Before she blinked, a large, masculine hand placed a pistachio muffin and a paper cup in front of her. 

"Any closer to your discovery?" he asked. 

She thanked him for breakfast and, after a gulp of the liquid ambrosia, she nodded and pulled off the green muffin top to eat it first. Despite him not knowing fully what she talked about, he always listened and even asked thoughtful questions. The first time had caught her off guard. No one was interested in her work. Not even the scientific community. Now, she rambled on as if he were a colleague. 

"That's good news," he said, his eyes flicking around the large windows encompassing the lab. 

Curious, she checked to see what was out there, but found nothing unusual. Just the clear blue sky and dusty road leading to town. 

He shifted and the long-sleeved shirt he wore slid away from his gloved hand to expose a sliver of metal. She'd thought he must've burned himself badly, since he always wore a glove and probably didn't own a single short-sleeved shirt, despite living in the desert. He must have some kind of bracelet. 

"What's that?" she asked without thinking.

He glanced down to where she was looking and quickly pulled down his sleeve. "Nothing."

Taking the hint, she changed the subject. "Thanks for the food."

He nodded and walked to the windows, quiet and stiff-backed. To say he was acting unusual was an understatement. 

Her chair squeaked against the hard floor as she stood. "James?"

Silence. 

"James—"

A heavy thud landed on the roof, making the ceiling creak and the plaster drift to the floor. 

James turned toward her with a gun raised just as the back door burst open. Two shots reverberated in the room, threatening to deafen her. Darcy's shout was muffled. Her intern dropped to the floor along with the coffee she'd been holding. It spilled on the floor, the brown liquid stretching out toward a man in an all-black combat uniform, now lying dead not two feet from her. 

Jane stood frozen, watching the scene unfold as if she were hypnotized. 

The windows exploded from James' gunfire. Soldiers had jumped from the flat roof only to be peppered with bullets. 

When someone else tried to come in from the back door, James angled himself toward them. Like some kind of magic trick, a gun was suddenly in his other hand. He shot at both sides of the lab at the same time. His jaw was set, his lips pressed in a hard line, and his eyes were fierce and determined. They'd always been soft and kind. She didn't know who this man was. 

At the abrupt absence of sound, she exhaled, feet still planted as if she were a hundred-year-old tree. 

James looked at her. His mouth moved, but she couldn't make out a word he'd said. 

He repeated it. 

She blinked at him. 

Darcy uncovered her ears and crawled toward the kitchen, leaving behind the disposable coffee cup. She waved for Jane to follow her, then stopped with wide eyes only to wave more frantically. 

Haze filled the room, swirling from the fresh air coming in from where the windows had once been. Faint gun smoke tickled her nose. 

A large man dropped from the roof. Glass crunched under his booted steps as he walked to them.

James dropped the guns to pull a knife from his belt, then moved closer to him. 

The muscle-bound soldier was at least a head taller than him and had shoulders that wouldn't fit through her doorway unless he turned sideways. They fought, though battled was more like it. Arms and legs lashed out with a suddenness that baffled her. They attacked and blocked as if they could read each other's minds. The silver bracelet James had hidden under his sleeve glinted in the sunlight, its flash momentarily blinding her. 

Time snapped back into place.

Her work. She spun to find her computer still intact, and she breathed out. Whoever they were had to be after her project. 

SHIELD? They'd contacted her, wanted her to work for them, but no, they wouldn't kill her for it. They'd just take it. 

"What the hell, Jane?" Darcy whispered loudly at her. "Get your ass out of there."

Someone else came in through the back door. A woman, dressed no different than the others, stepped over her two dead comrades without a glance down at them. 

"Jane Foster?" the mystery woman asked, her soft feminine voice contrasting with her sturdy masculine build. 

Darcy's eyes were as round as the moon. She looked from Jane to the deadly woman holding an even deadlier rifle. 

The woman's eyes never left Jane. "You will come with me." When no one moved, she added, "Now!"

"Okay." Jane's knees shook. She tried to swallow but found it impossible. "I need to get my work. That's what you want, right?"

The woman nodded and Jane dragged her oddly disconnected feet toward her computer. The few steps to the table took minute-long seconds, filled with the awful sounds of James and the male soldier fighting. The grunts were expected. Flesh hitting flesh was obvious. What caught her ear was a strange metallic whirring that stopped after a vicious punch. 

"Don't do it," Darcy told her. 

The woman took a step in her direction and then thumped her over the head with the butt of her rifle. Darcy's eyes rolled back and she slumped to the floor. 

"Do it, or she dies," the female soldier said, backing up her threat by angling the muzzle at her intern's head. 

Jane's stomach bottomed out. She took the last step in one leap.

"Jane!" James shouted, stopping her fingers from touching the keyboard. "Don't give them anything."

In his moment of distraction, the large man delivered a flurry of strikes that left her stunned and James on his knees, disarmed, and with a gun pointed at his forehead. Both had seen better days, but none more so than the male soldier. Blood wetted his black attire in large splotches, making it glossy and heavy looking. His chest heaved as he took deep breaths. 

"Do it, or they both die," the woman commanded. 

Even if she gave them what they wanted, Darcy and James were dead anyway. These sort of people don't leave behind witnesses...unless they would be used as incentives for Jane to work. 

If she was right about the Einstein-Rosen bridge, and last night was not only proof but a road map as to how, then she couldn't let that technology fall into the wrong hands. No matter what. 

The man eased back the trigger, and Jane threw out her hands, yelling for him to stop. "I'll do it. I'll do it. Just give me a moment."

She glanced at James, then at Darcy with her heart in her throat and her stomach in her feet.

_Forgive me._

Jane punched in the short code, hating herself all the more with each keystroke. Her beloved computer popped and wispy trails of smoke streamed out of it. Each of her scanners followed suit in a line of succession that sounded like a small package of firecrackers going off. 

"What did you do?" the woman shouted over the din.

"It's gone." Jane's voice wavered. Tears welled in her eyes. Any moment now, they'd kill her friends, and it'll all be her fault. Her only hope was to get them to kill her too. She steeled her voice. "It's all gone. You've failed, you big, worthless sack of manure."

If Darcy had heard that insult, she would've fallen to the floor in fits of laughter. A tear streaked down Jane's cheek. 

The woman's face turned red, her nostrils flaring with anger, and she opened her mouth to speak, but a knife whooshed by and slammed into her forehead, knocking her back and forever silencing her. 

Jane's gaze flew to where the knife had come from. The large man lay partially slumped against the wall with lifeless, unblinking eyes. Blood coated his neck, but no longer streamed from the open wound there. 

Unable to look away, she gaped at the gruesome sight.

When a hand touched her arm, she flailed, gasping in air that seemed to choke her. 

"You're okay," James said. "Everything is okay."

She bit off a sob and nodded, turning into his waiting arms, only to freeze at the sight of his torn sleeve. A metal plated arm stared up at her. 

Only her papers stirred in the gentle breeze. James was as motionless as she was. 

"James," she cautiously asked, taking in the dead people littering her lab, all of whom he'd killed, "who are you?"

His arms fell to his sides and he stepped away from her. "SHIELD Agent James Buchanan Barnes."

His face was impassive, but it looked more like a mask than anything sincere. He stood at attention, like a soldier being inspected. It was too rigid, though. 

"You've been spying on me?" she asked. 

His jaw ticked, but he gave a sharp nod. 

"So, all this time you've been kind and...helpful, it's been fake?"

The mask cracked, and he shook his head, reaching out with his metal arm. 

She glanced down at it, and he snatched it back to his side, the hand tightening into a tight fist. There was no doubt it could've pulverized steel. 

Forcing herself to not move to him, she asked, "What then?"

"I'd been sent to watch and protect you. There'd been reports of others interested in your work—"

"Who?"

"HYDRA." When she said nothing else, he continued. "And SHIELD couldn't let them steal your research. My mission was not to interfere with your work, only to protect it. I knew you wouldn't be an easy assignment, and I had to gain your trust. What I didn't expect was..."

She held her breath. "What?"

"To fall in love with you."

"You—" She licked her lips, her heart flip-flopping in her chest. "You love me?"

His gaze found hers, and they stood motionless, staring at each other. 

"Oh, for God's sake," Darcy grumbled, rubbing her head as she sat upright. "Just kiss each other already."

James looked at her in question, and Jane couldn't stop the smile from forming on her lips. 

Before they could erase the space between them, sirens blared as a line of black cars and several ambulances surrounded the lab. People rushed out, some with guns in hands, though lowered, and others with their medic bags. All dashed inside. 

One of the EMTs headed straight toward Darcy. She caught sight of his handsome boyishness and immediately started groaning and swaying like she was about to collapse any moment. He caught her and asked her questions while checking her vitals. Why Darcy never became an actress was beyond Jane. The girl could fake a heart attack, especially if it got her out of doing house chores. 

Several of the agents checked the area for threats, while others took pictures of the destruction. One approached Jane. 

"Your work," the agent asked, pointing to the charred and warped equipment, "is gone?"

She nodded, not even looking at him. James held her eyes, as if she might be taken from him forever. That ridiculous man loved her, and all this time she thought he hadn't even been interested. 

"Do you think you can duplicate it?"

When she didn't answer, he repeated the question. 

"Yeah." She had it all memorized anyway. "If you'll excuse me for one moment." 

Stepping past him, she slipped her hands into James' hair and lifted to her toes to plant one hell of a kiss on him. 

James held nothing back despite being surrounded by his colleagues. They breathed each other in and savored the feel of their lips moving together, the brush of their thighs and hips, each touch of a hand that gripped and caressed. Except, Jane noticed while she used both of hers, he only used one. 

Without breaking contact, she slid her palm down his cold bionic arm to grasp his fingers. She brought them to rest on her hip and didn't let them go. 

As if the simple gesture had ignited a fire within him, he kissed her more fiercely, making the entire universe fall away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note - thanks for reading!! This was from another prompt from Pinterest. I have so many ideas for one shots thanks to that site. 
> 
> Mercury97 helped despite not being totally into Winter Solstice, so she gets an extra big thanks. My sister, however, must read everything I write. Thankfully this isn't a form of punishment for her. Lol. And she will always have my gratitude for being so supportive. 
> 
> Up Next: Lokane


	5. Jane/Loki

Jane stared at the thick, creamy envelope with her name and address handwritten in a golden elegant scrawl, now crumpled and flattened, with smudges of God-knows-what marring its beauty. A wedding invitation. Worse yet, from Donald Blake. She'd thrown it away several times, but always reclaimed it before Darcy could empty the trash.

It could only mean one thing: he'd finally found his soulmate. She should be happy for him, but it had been barely six months since he'd broken up with her after realizing they hadn't aged a day, and she found it hard to be gracious. Three years of a happy relationship meant nothing. Three years of her life, dedicated not only to her work but to his, meant absolutely nothing. 

Snatching up the envelope, she ripped it in half, then again, and again, until she could no longer bend the stack of scraps. With a grunt of frustration, she hurled it toward the trashcan and grimaced at the cloud of festive confetti she'd made. Golden filigree sparkled in the sunlight as each paper danced and twirled its way to the floor. 

_Pity party indeed,_ she snorted. 

A knock on the front door made her flinch in surprise, and then rush to snatch the lingering remnants out of the air while shoving the bits on the floor aside with her boot. "Just one moment."

Darcy and Erik wouldn't knock, no one from town ever stopped by, and her mom was in London the last time Jane checked. Her brows furrowed. Who could possibly be at her door?

"Dr. Foster?" a man asked. 

After shoving the handful of paper in the trashcan, she darted over to the peephole and found a middle-aged man of average build and features in a dark suit with a fist raised, ready to knock again. 

Jane kept her gaze trained on him. "Who is it?" 

"Agent Coulson." He held his badge to the peephole and waited. 

She'd never heard of SHIELD. "What do you want?"

"I have a couple questions I need to ask you." He paused. "May I come in?"

Fingers resting on the deadbolt, she hesitated. "What is SHIELD?"

"Soulmate Homicide Investigation, Education, and Law-Enforcement Department."

Homicide? She glanced at the bits of wedding invitation still littering her floor, and, in a rush, she unlocked the door to throw it open. "Is Donald okay?"

"Who?"

Her brows pulled together. "If this isn't about Donald, why are you here?"

"I'm working on a longstanding case, and we think you are linked to it." He walked past her, looking around, then gestured to the couch. "You might want to sit down."

"Jane?" Erik's voice preceded his entrance. "Whose car's out front?" When he stepped inside, he looked the Agent up and down. His voice lowered. "Do we need to get a lawyer?"

"There's no need for that, Dr. Selvig." Before the older man could act on his surprise, Coulson continued. "It's good you're here. Please sit." 

He ushered them to the couch as if he owned the place, then removed a set of pictures from his coat's inner pocket, but kept the images hidden from view. "What is known about soulmates is that we don't age after we reach twenty-one until we find ours. We have roughly one hundred years to find them before we die." He waited for them to nod. “If someone finds their soulmate, they typically live happily until one of the mates dies. We know that the ones who die first try to return. Most don't have enough time to be reborn, though, since the surviving mate does not often live very long.”

 

Jane made sure her gaze did not drift to Erik. His soulmate had terminal cancer several years back. To say he'd been a wreck was an understatement. If it hadn't been for their work, she was certain he wouldn't have lasted a month longer.

 

"What is not publicly known is that if someone kills their soulmate before the bond is triggered, they live far longer."

Jane gaped. To kill your soulmate was practically unheard of and just plain wrong, as wrong as choking on air.

"There is a man who has killed his soulmate three times," Coulson said.

She raised a brow. "Three?" 

"Reincarnation. This person was fast."

 

Unease hardened into a rock in the pit of her stomach. "He's been alive for at least three hundred years then. He's learned how to be immortal, but how? How do you find out who your soulmate is, then get close enough to kill them without triggering the bond?"

"That's easy: sunglasses, gloves, not speaking. It's locating them that is the hard part. Luckily, we finally figured out his method." He watched her closely and took a breath, as if reminding her to do the same. The air was sticky and heavy though. He was about to deliver some bad news. She just knew it. 

Eric placed a comforting hand on her back. He sensed it as well. 

"The serial killer, Dr. Foster," Coulson said, "is your soulmate."

She blinked once, twice, then shot off the couch and marched over to the kitchen. With a swipe of her hand, she snatched Darcy's bottle of dark rum off the counter and took a deep swig.

Her soulmate was a serial killer, and she was his only target. She'd been reborn four times now. Four times. Jane took another gulp. 

After a long moment to herself, Jane replaced the bottle's cap and walked back to them, grateful they had given her the space to process. "I'll help."

Surprise flickered across Coulson's face.

"That's what you wanted, right?" she asked. "I'll do it." 

She took the set of pictures from him. Some were black and white, old but well preserved. Others were more recent with clarity that showed every detail, from the magnificent green coloring his eyes to the deep blue-black of his long hair. He was tall and lean with stances that portrayed grace and poise rather than clumsiness or rigidity. He was handsome, one of the most attractive men she'd ever seen. 

She lowered her hand, careful not to crease the pictures in her tightening grip, and took another steadying breath. 

Erik stepped to her side. "May I see?"

Without realizing it, she'd passed him the pictures and moved to the couch to collapse onto the cushions. An odd nebulous daze filled her mind. All she could see was a handsome ghost, moving through the shadows to sneak up behind her and slice open her throat. 

"All we need you to do is go about your daily life," Coulson said, now standing before her. "We'll watch over you and intercept him when the time comes. You'll have nothing to worry about."

She must've nodded because he soon left, along with his pictures. In the days afterwards, she'd often wished she could look over them. She wanted to memorize the face of her would-be killer, but a small part of her just wanted to look at her soulmate. Instead, she poured herself into her work, escaping into the mysteries of the universe, barely registering the transition of day to night and night to day, or Erik and Darcy's concerned glances. Until her computer wouldn't turn on. 

Jane glared at the empty port for the power cord—she'd already looked everywhere for it—then stood. "All right, give it back."

Erik paused flipping through the latest readouts to acknowledge her. "I told you I didn't take it, and I don't know where it is. But maybe this is a good thing. You need a break."

"Darcy," Jane chided her. She had to be the culprit. 

The woman in question wore an innocent expression. Too innocent. She lifted the van's keys. "I guess we need to go buy another one."

Jane let out a long breath. "Fine, but I'm driving."

Darcy's red lips spread wide as she grinned before she tossed her the keys. 

The trip out of town to the mall was uneventful, if you didn't count the black cars and SUVs discreetly following her, then setting up a perimeter to keep an eye on them. 

"While we're here, why don't we get our nails done and do some shopping?" Darcy declared. 

"No."

"Please."

"No."

"Pretty please?"

"No. No. And no." Jane kept a brisk pace, slipping around strolling couples and straggling children, passing shops without a glance in their direction. "We're only going to the electronic store and that's it."

Five minutes later, Jane found herself in an oversized reclining chair with her feet soaking in scented, warm water, her hands coated in paraffin, and cucumber slices covering her eyes. If Darcy had a superpower, it was the ability to get her way no matter what. It was nice though, a colossal waste of time, but nice. 

The sound of boots thundered into the salon, followed by gasps of surprise. Jane bolted upright as soldiers with lowered guns looked around corners and in each of the small rooms. One questioned the receptionist. 

"Which way did he go?"

The young woman's mouth still hung open. 

"The tall man in a baseball cap and black attire." When he got no response, he continued. "He just came in."

Darcy leaned toward Jane and whispered, "He was here, and not one person saw him."

All Jane could do was nod. Her frantically beating heart clogged her throat. 

Another soldier announced there was a back exit, and they all vanished through it. 

"Do we stay or should we get out of here?" Darcy asked. 

Jane touched her throat. He could've killed her, and no one would've been the wiser. 

"Hey." Her intern prodded her with a finger. "Snap out of it."

Taking a deep breath, Jane slid out of the chair and then grabbed her purse. An unexpected weight nearly pulled the bag out of her hands. 

Darcy sidled up to her. "What is it?"

"I don't know." She slipped her hand inside and found a thick, hardback book with some loose papers stuck between the pages. Her insides sunk to her feet, like a rock in a pond. He'd gotten close enough to sneak her something, close enough to kill her. And yet, he hadn't. 

Darcy shoved her hand inside and just as quickly pulled it back out. "A book?" She snorted. "He is your soulmate."

Jane was tempted to look, but decided to wait. Something told her to keep this secret. "Let's go."

They wasted no time buying the cord and getting back to the van. As soon as she slammed the heavy door closed, she pulled out the book. "Norse Mythology?" Jane questioned. 

"So weird," Darcy said, looking over her shoulder. "Open it."

She turned the cover, then unfolded one of the loose papers and read aloud. "Jane Foster, read this with an eye of a philosopher instead of a scientist. What you and I seek lies inside."

"Damn," Darcy exclaimed. "It's not signed. A name would've been a nice clue for Coulson. But maybe he can get prints off it." At Jane's silence, she added, "Yeah, you're right. He would be smarter than that."

Jane flipped through the book, pausing only long enough to read his handwritten notes along with the highlighted texts. Rainbow bridge? Realms? Seers? "He's crazy."

"Well, yeah. What did you expect? The man is a serial killer. A sociopath. Probably delusional."

Jane closed the book and stared blankly out the window. _What you and I seek lies inside._

"Agent Coulson," Darcy said, not to Jane.

Snatching the phone from her intern's hand, Jane stabbed the red button to end the call. "What are you doing?"

"Updating Coulson." 

"Not right now. Just give me a day to wrap my head around this." The rainbow bridge did sound awfully similar to an Einstein-Rosen bridge, and the realms were nothing more than inhabited worlds with alien life. But seers? She didn't believe in fortune tellers and astrology. "Maybe I'm missing something."

Darcy watched her carefully, then slowly nodded. 

Gripping the steering wheel, Jane drove home with her mind elsewhere. 

Jane spent the next week with her nose in books about all things Norse mythology, using his notes to guide her. She started thinking of her work in a new, more abstract way. If her colleagues knew what she was doing, they would blacklist her forever. Erik was bad enough. They fought and fought until Darcy couldn't take it anymore and scolded them as if they were no better than squabbling children. Erik had come back from his room after a long bout of bitter silence, unhappy with her decision to use what the serial killer had provided, but willing to help, if only to keep her safe. 

The entire section on the Convergence had been highlighted and contained the most notes, so she focused her work around it, and quickly realized one was about to happen. Such an alignment would cause the affected worlds to vibrate in the same frequency, thereby creating pockets that were nothing more than spontaneous wormholes. It was quantum mechanics on a large scale. All she had to do was find an anomaly, record it, and present her findings in a scientific journal using language the community understood. It would be a breakthrough similar to the confirmation of Einstein's theory of gravitational waves.

It took another week, four sleepless nights, and three cut fingers to design and build a handheld device that could detect the wormholes. If one didn't look too carefully, it appeared no different than an older blackberry with an oversized screen. 

Erik and Darcy huddled around her, pressing shoulder to shoulder, as she breathed out, counted to five in her head to calm her nerves, and then pressed the power button. 

The screen lit up, but it was nothing more than a colorful staticky mess. 

Muttering under her breath, Jane adjusted the filters and reset the codes. It didn't help. 

"Hit it," Darcy suggested. 

Erik sighed. "That's not going to—"

Jane banged it hard against her hand several times, and the screen cleared to show a rotating miniature Earth along with actual readings. It even beeped incessantly. 

"Hell yeah!" Darcy whooped. 

Jane smiled wide. Multiple anomalies were scattered all around the Earth. There was even one relatively close by. Excitement gave her a stronger buzz than any triple espresso could. 

"We have to go there," Darcy demanded. 

On the verge of agreeing, SHIELD came to mind. Deflated, her arms fell to her side. "We can't. If I leave, they'll follow me and find the wormhole as well. Hello bureaucracy, goodbye scientific freedom."

"Maybe it's for the best," Erik said. "We don't know what we're dealing with. Something could come out that we're not prepared to handle. Or it could grow and envelop us, depositing us on one of those inhospitable worlds."

"Or." Darcy paused for effect. "I disguise myself as you, take the van, and get them to follow me. You sneak out and take my car."

"No," Erik declared. 

Jane ignored him as she took in Darcy. Lose the red lipstick, add a pair of sunglasses, throw on a hat, carry a large box to hide their most obvious difference in body type, and her intern could very well pass as her. "That could work."

It took all of five minutes for them to enact their plan, despite Erik's protests slowing them down. She watched Darcy leave, and then the agents. As soon as they were clear, she darted out of the lab and hopped into the small car, surprised to find Erik right behind her. She lifted a brow as he quickly buckled up, but said nothing. If he wanted to come, he was more than welcome. He often picked things up she didn't. It's what made them a good team. 

The beeping sped up the closer they drove to an abandoned warehouse. She parked outside the metal building and walked where the device guided her. Their footfalls on the metal walkways echoed in the cavernous room. Without air conditioning, they were moving through an oven. Sweat slid down her back, but she kept going. 

Several stories up, she stopped near a corner that appeared perfectly normal. Her readings were going haywire though. 

"This is it?" Erik asked. 

Jane nodded and bent to scoop up a crumpled and faded magazine.

He stepped closer to her. "What are you doing?"

"Seeing if it's actually there." She tossed the magazine, and it disappeared mid-air. 

Her heart thumped offbeat and she swallowed hard. Not because she'd found a wormhole, but because she caught sight of someone hidden in the shadows on the other side of the walkway. A tall man with dark hair and sharp features that were both beautiful and frightening. Her soulmate and would-be killer. His glasses hid his eyes, but she knew he was looking right at her. 

An odd mixture of cold fear and warm desire filled her. It was as if her body recognized her soulmate even without the bond and rejoiced, pulling her towards him. And yet, her mind knew him as her serial killer, screaming at her to run away. In the end, she stood frozen and confused. 

"Jane, what's wrong?" Erik asked, looking around but unable to see the man through the darkness. 

Her soulmate smiled at her. 

This was a trap, to get her to leave the safety of her lab and SHIELD. She expected him to raise a gun, throw a knife, shoot a poisoned dart, do something to kill her and buy himself another hundred years. 

Instead, his gaze returned to the wormhole, and he took a step in its direction. 

The movement caught Erik's eye, and he gasped, pulling her back. 

"Stop!" a familiar voice shouted from down the walkway behind her serial killer. 

Before she had a chance to find Agent Coulson, at least twenty soldiers in combat gear moved to the edge of the walkway above them in unison. They snapped their rifles over the railing and aimed at the tall man who had heeded the command. He'd paused mid-step with his weight about to lift off his back foot. 

"You are under arrest for the murder of three previous soulmates and the attempted murder of your current one," Coulson said as he approached the taller man. He had a pair of handcuffs in his grasp around his raised gun. 

He didn't seem like he was about to kill her, though. He had been focused on the wormhole, ready to walk right in even. 

Her soulmate lifted his hands as instructed, his face twisting with fury. He seemed to ignore Coulson reading his rights and the soldiers ready to shoot-to-kill. 

Once he was cuffed, Coulson turned to Erik and thanked him for keeping them informed. Jane bit back a curse and glared at her old mentor. 

As soon as they were walking back to Darcy's car, she said, "I can't believe you've been spying for them."

"You should be glad I did, or we might both be dead right now."

But she wasn't relieved. He hadn't been about to kill her. Right before Coulson had stepped out, a look had crossed his features that she had recognized even with his glasses on. A look of relief. Just what was on the other side of that wormhole? And why did he want to go there so badly?

She glanced back as they drove away from the metal building being cordoned off with tape and stationed with armed guards. Looked like she'd never know. 

Unless...

Except for the lone man handcuffed to a metal table, the room was empty. Jane stepped inside and then nodded a dismissal to the soldier who had unlocked the door. She'd agreed to work for SHIELD on the wormholes if they allowed her a private visit with her soulmate. 

The door clicked shut behind her, but Jane didn't move an inch. Her stomach held a thousand butterflies from hell.

His gaze was trained on his intertwined hands, handcuffed to the table and resting atop a pad of paper. He refused to look at her, of course. He wore no glasses and didn't want to risk triggering the bond. He wouldn't speak, either, which was why SHIELD had granted him the paper and pencil. 

She told herself it didn't matter, that he was not mentally well, but her heart ached all the same. Out of all the people in the world she had to be bound to someone who would rather kill her for more years than spend his last days happily fulfilled at having found his soulmate. Not everyone got that chance. 

Ready for whatever might happen, she took a breath and then asked him what was on the other side of the wormhole, all the while being careful to not accidentally bite the tiny device hidden under her tongue. When—if it was time, she'd use it to signal Darcy.

He flinched, but relaxed when her words didn’t set off the bond. It could still be his words that did it though, or a touch, or an eye-locked gaze. 

"Well?"

He picked up the pencil in his long fingers with perfectly kept nails and wrote. He turned the pad toward her. 

She didn't want to step any closer to him, but her curiosity demanded otherwise. 

In a stylish scrawl that reminded her of calligraphy, he'd written that Asgard resided on the other side. So it was all real. Which meant there were frost giants and fire demons. 

"Why?"

He didn't take back the pad, not even after the third time she asked the simple question. 

"Everyone here believes you set me up to kill me."

Besides a hardness setting his shoulders, he showed no other sign of what he might think. 

"Everyone but me."

Even with his face lowered she could saw his brows pull together. 

"You wanted that wormhole, not me." Forgetting herself, she took a step in his direction. "You've been waiting hundreds of years to get back to Asgard. Killing me—the past me's—was out of necessity, wasn't it?"

Silence. 

"You had to wait for the Convergence, for someone to help you find a wormhole, but why? Why do you need to leave?"

She leaned over the table, waiting for an answer he would not give. 

Lowering her voice to barely a whisper, she said, "I can help you."

That almost had him jerking to gape at her, but before their eyes could meet, he schooled himself and looked back down at his hands. 

She licked her dry lips, but her tongue might as well have been a dehydrated husk. Nerves had her skin prickling, but she steeled herself for what she was about to do. 

"Trigger the bond, be my test subject for the wormhole, and you'll be free to go to Asgard."

The pencil snapped in his white-knuckled grip.

"I'm not going to risk breaking you out of here, only for you to kill me again and again until the end of time." She shook her head. "You either die rotting in a cell on Earth, or die a free man on Asgard, but this is going to happen."

His chest heaved with a sudden, deep breath, then he looked her in the eyes, gripping her more firmly than had he done so with his hands. Green consumed her, and yet nothing clicked. No world-altering effects. Which could mean nothing. Many people didn't feel a thing. It was how roommates could suddenly realize they were growing old, thereby discovering they were each other's soulmate. Not to mention why a couple could live together for years and only realize they weren't meant to be until they saw the truth, she thought bitterly. 

"You will come to regret this, Jane Foster."

A cool sensation washed over her, as if she'd just walked through a gentle waterfall on a sweltering day. A shiver raked her body, as it did his. Jane looked at him, a connection settling in place that unnerved her. She'd never heard of a bonding that strong before.

Dragging her feet back, she breathed out in relief that she was still in control of herself. 

"What now?" he asked. 

She bit down on the tiny device in her mouth and waited. 

The fire alarms shrieked and flashed. As he glanced up at them, she absorbed everything about him. The pictures hadn't done him justice. He even looked like he was about to put on a fashion show of orange prison garb. It just wasn’t fair. 

The door opened and a female soldier stepped inside. Darcy. 

Jane breathed out in relief. _So far so good._

After the door clicked shut, her intern smiled at them. "You called?"

Jane motioned for her to unlock the handcuffs, and then peeked outside to find a guard waiting close by despite everyone else moving swiftly to the exits. 

"Fire?" Jane asked because she needed a reason to be poking her head out. 

He gave a sharp nod and answered, but her attention zeroed in on Agent Coulson and two soldiers walking around a corner toward her.

She popped back into the room. "We have to go. Now."

Darcy drew herself up, hardening her features, then marched outside holding onto Jane's still semi-bound soulmate, though the handcuffs would surely fall from his wrists if he jostled them. The other soldier fell into step with Darcy. 

Jane glanced back to see the hallway mostly empty. Coulson picked up his pace. He shouted something, but it was lost to the alarms. She looked at the soldier's ear-piece, certain he would be radioed to halt and wait for the Agent to catch up to them. 

Her heart clenched tightly with each pounding beat. She might die of a heart attack before they made it to the stairwell or out of the building. 

Just as they rounded a corner, her soulmate elbowed the guard in the face hard enough to make the stout man drop as if his bones had melted. 

Darcy yelped in surprise, but it was Jane he addressed. "Calm yourself. I can feel your fear like filth on my skin."

Before she could give him a piece of her mind, he knelt to strip the uniform off the man and don the too-baggy clothes. It took all of three seconds, just a flash of his bare skin, pale and taut over defined muscles, then they were moving again, down the stairs with other employees and soldiers. His longer legs made her take two steps at a time, risking her neck to keep pace. Darcy struggled just the same. 

By the time they reached the bottom floor, she was out of breath and lagging well behind her soulmate. She thought he'd walk out the door and disappear forever, but he waited, albeit impatiently. His jaw ticked like the second hand of a clock. 

They strode through the lobby with Jane glancing over her shoulder and jumping whenever someone got too close to them. 

"Stop that," her soulmate demanded. 

Heeding his advice, she fixed her gaze on Darcy's back, repeating pi's long sequence of numbers as they flowed with the stream of people out the exit. It wasn't until they were in the car, and driving away that she felt the tension drain from her coiled muscles and locked rib cage. 

"Where are we going?" he asked. 

Darcy answered for her. "There's another wormhole out in the desert."

He fell into silence at that, and Jane wished she could hear his smooth, mellifluous voice again, until she wanted to slap herself for even thinking of him fondly. He had killed her numerous times. He didn't want the bond. And he was plainly an arrogant asshole. 

He clicked his tongue. "One should not hold such distasteful emotions toward their soulmate, dear Jane."

What? He could feel her that strongly? She got nothing off him. The realization as to why that was hit her like a punch to the gut. He felt nothing for her, not hatred nor desire. Just nothing. 

Darcy cleared her throat. "What's your name? SHIELD has nothing on you besides some pictures."

Just when Jane thought he wouldn't answer, he said, "Loki."

Jane twisted in her seat to look back at him, thinking of the Norse mythology book he'd given her. "Loki, brother to Thor, Prince of Asgard?"

He nodded, though just barely.

"Are you really a Frost Giant?"

His gaze sharpened to daggers.

"Can you shapeshift?" Jane continued on. "Did you really turn into a mare and give birth to a horse for Odin?"

"Oh, for Norn's sake. If it'll shut you up, yes, I am really a Frost Giant, yes, I am a shapeshifter, and no, I did not birth a horse or any children for that matter."

The car swerved slightly, but other than that Darcy seemed to be taking it well. 

Turning back to him, Jane realized their intense bonding had to have been because he wasn't human. If not for her situation, she would've thought interspecies soulmates were impossible. 

His stare pulled her out of her thoughts. "So where's your magic? Why are you stuck on Earth?"

"It was my punishment. To live and die as a worthless mortal."

"What did you do?" 

"Ruined Thor's inauguration by nearly starting a war between Asgard and Jotunheim. People died. The Casket of Ancient Winters was almost freed from the vault." He shifted. "Then I almost destroyed both the Bifrost and Jotunheim." He picked imaginary lint off his borrowed uniform. "It was not my finest hour."

Jane took a moment to process everything he'd said. "Why would you want to go back to where you're clearly not wanted?"

"Because it's the only home I know."

Jane faced the front of the car and settled into her seat for the drive. He hadn't lied to her. She didn't know how she knew, but she did. She wasn't even certain if he could lie to his soulmate. The bond reacted differently for each couple, and theirs seemed particularly strong. 

As much as she hated it, she understood him. She never felt like she belonged either, not in school, not with her family, and not in her lab. But she'd always attributed that to not having a soulmate bond. Now, she wasn't sure about anything.

They stopped at the site, and she stuck sensors on him while Darcy set up the equipment. This was the main reason she'd freed him. She wanted to perform her experiments under her own authority, and since he wanted to go through the wormhole, she had her perfect test subject. 

His taller height blocked the sun from her eyes and silhouetted his shirtless form, but she did her best not to stare. Regardless, her body hummed in delight at their close proximity, at each little brush of skin on skin. She took the smallest breaths because his scent was a siren's call, luring her closer and closer to him. And, if she wasn't mistaken, he was inching toward her the same way. 

Stepping back, she checked on Darcy's work and nodded in approval. Everything was hooked up to the car's battery and already spitting out readings. 

Loki moved to the edge of the anomaly and paused. He looked back at Jane. Something inside of her twisted. She shouldn't feel anything for him, let alone regret his leaving. She shouldn't. But repeating his offenses over and over in her mind didn't help soothe the pang building in her chest. 

He shifted and one of the sensors went silent. They all needed to be working to get an accurate reading. 

She told him to wait a moment and plodded over to him. His gaze did not veer from hers. His hands clenched and unclenched. She thought he might jump into the wormhole before she reached him, but he stayed perfectly still. Too still. 

When she was close enough to adjust the defective sensor, he gripped her arms and pulled her closer to him. "I warned you, Jane Foster."

And then she was surrounded by darkness that pushed against her like a thousand bodies. Her skin and marrow stretched until she thought their very molecules would rip free to drift across the universe. 

What felt like a thousand years in a scant couple seconds passed, and the darkness vanished. Golden light blinded her, forcing her to shield her eyes until they adjusted. Jane turned, taking in the beautiful city with its towering spires glinting in the sunlight, the sparkling water of the lazy river not four feet from her, and the vibrant green leaves of trees so full they appeared to be overgrown bushes. 

"Asgard," she breathed out. 

"Yes." Loki cinched a tight grip around her arm and led her toward what could only be a grand palace, not bothering to shorten his stride or slow his pace for her. "It is time I get my powers back." He flashed her a mischievous smile as she struggled to keep up. "And you're going to help me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> used another prompt with a really interesting concept. Hopefully, you liked it as well, and that it's practically twice as long. :)
> 
> My lovely sister and my awesome beta, Mercury97, were a big help. _Big_ help. Mercury clarified several parts that made it ten times better. I love that I get to learn so much from her—she's a copy editor. I just hope some of it sticks. Lol
> 
> Up next: Jane/Bucky


	6. Jane/Bucky

The smell of melting cheese and warm bread made Jane's stomach grumble. She waited in line to order pizza while taking in the homey atmosphere with paintings of Italy and pictures of famous people eating at the establishment lining the red walls. Frank Sinatra played in the background, though it was practically lost to the clatter of employees busily working and all the patrons filling the tables, talking, laughing, even arguing. It was her first time here, first time in this state actually.

She'd flown in two days ago for the NExSS conference to give a presentation tomorrow. Nerves made her hungry, but for only one thing. 

"Lady," a gruff voice asked, "you ready to order?"

The commanding nature of the question snapped her attention forward and she stepped to the counter. He was a big guy, more stout than lean muscle, but still intimidating. A faint Italian accent colored his words. That was a good sign at least. The pizza would more than likely be edible. 

She cleared her throat. "Large with extra pineapples and anchovies." He stared at her, assessing her in a non-lecherous way, that had her shifting on her feet. Realizing her mistake, she quickly added, "Please," and smiled to show she hadn't meant to be rude. 

He grunted and turned to call someone from the back. 

Jane's brows furrowed, wondering if she'd said something wrong. Surely they weren't out of the toppings, though that would be just her luck. Her stomach twisted, grumbling again. 

When another man of similar olive skin and dark hair, but thin and tall, strolled to the counter, the gruff one nodded toward Jane. They looked at her before exchanging confused glances. 

Just as she was about to ask if there was a problem with her order, the taller one waved her around the counter. "Follow me," he said before walking to the back, fully expecting her to obey. 

The gruff one looked at the couple standing behind her and asked for their order. They scooted around her to speak to him, nearly pushing a befuddled Jane out of the way. 

What was going on? All she wanted was a pizza. 

A hand clasped her arm and pulled her to the back of the restaurant. "You're late." 

"But—"

"You have any weapons?"

Her mouth fell open. What kind of question was that? 

She was about to fight his firm grip and get the hell out of the pizzeria, but they stopped in front of a door blocked by two men the size of mountains and just as hard with crooked noses and scars streaking their face, neck, and heavily-muscled arms. Their dark eyes pinned her to the spot, making her heart thud to a stop before pumping twice as hard and twice as fast. 

Her escort released her arm, and a sigh of relief turned into a squeak when his hands ran over her t-shirt, between her breasts, down her sides, around her hips, and along her legs all the way to her ankles. It was done and over with before her stunned brain could properly respond. 

Then, the guards moved to the side and he pulled her to the door. "You look new, so I'll give you some advice. Don't stare at anyone, don't speak unless spoken to, and don't lie."

Without giving her a moment to tell him she just wanted pizza, he opened the door and pulled her inside a windowless room, hazy from the cigar hanging from the mouth of the large, bald man sitting at the far end of a long table facing her. The man standing behind him and the people occupying the other seats turned to look at her as well. It was like living out a nightmare of being late for an exam and arriving naked. 

"Who are you?" the bald man asked. 

"Um." Jane swallowed, but the thick frog in her throat wouldn't budge. 

"Well?" he asked, sitting up straighter. She could imagine him gripping a sawed-off shotgun under the table and aiming it at her, just waiting for her to make the wrong move. 

Cold fear froze her to the spot. All she could do was stare at everyone and say nothing. At least, she wasn't lying. 

"This is my contact," a man, several seats down from the mob boss, announced. "Dr. Jane Foster, an astrophysicist and a presenter at NExSS. She's going to get me in the building and has information that might be of use."

_What the? Who? How?_

"Very well, W.S.," the mob boss said, and gestured for her to sit. 

The grip on her arm vanished and then the door behind her clicked shut. Her legs wobbled without her escort's support. 

They waited for her to move, but she couldn't. It was impossible. 

W.S. stood, dark hair brushing his broad shoulders with the sudden movement. "My apologies, sir. This is her first time." 

As he walked to her, the mob boss chuckled.

Needing to escape, Jane glanced behind her and thought about leaping for the handle. She was small. She could very well slip between the behemoths outside, but the man who somehow knew her gave her no option to resist, not with the death stare cementing her feet to the floor, nor with the deadly way he moved, like a fighter who knew how to kill and would do so without question. 

His gloved hand gripped her arm. She expected to wince under the intensity of it, but he merely held on just enough to get her moving. Her feet stumbled forward and she followed him to sit in the chair next to his. Everyone's eyes were on her. She could feel them like knives pressed against her skin. Heeding the advice of the tall man, she trained her gaze on a water stain on the table. 

"Jane Foster," the mob boss said, as if reading aloud. She looked up to discover that he was, from a laptop now placed in front of him. "Culver University graduate, leading astrophysicist in astronomical anomalies with an intense interest in Einstein-Rosen Bridges, creator of the Foster Theory." He went on, announcing her date of birth, where she'd been born, her parent's names, and even her credit score. 

She opened her mouth to speak, but at a sharp look from the broad-shouldered man at her side, she closed it. 

"Looks like everything checks out." The mob boss tapped the ashes from his cigar into an ashtray as the man behind him removed the laptop. "Tell me, Jane, how will you get my people in?"

"She—" W.S. tried to answer for her, but was promptly interrupted by the bald man.

"I said Jane, did I not?"

The hands in his lap clenched into fists, and she could've sworn a slight metallic whir came from one of them. 

"Enlighten us, Jane."

She shifted in her seat. "Well, um. There's a separate entrance for presenters." She took in a shaky breath as a hard look crossed the mob boss' face. His personal lackey’s hand slipped under his coat. Her heart skipped a beat. "I know the head security guard, though. He lets me use a door that's closest to the equipment room since I'm always going in and out. If he"—she nodded to the man next to her—"dresses like a worker and carries in a device, then Ron won't think twice about it."

The mob boss softened and he took a strong puff on the cigar. The man behind him removed his hand from his coat. 

She wanted to exhale, but her chest was still too tight to allow her to relax. 

"Show us," the mob boss commanded, and a woman opened rolls of plans of the building on the table. 

Jane did as asked and answered every question the best she could, while doing her best to understand what exactly they were planning. There was no clock and the tall man had taken her purse with her phone in it, so she had no way of knowing if night had passed. Time seemed to stand still in that windowless room, weighed down with ambition and greed, smoke and cologne. 

When the mob boss stood, followed by the others, she was a mess, muscles stiff as if from rigor mortis, mouth dry and sticky, and clothes clinging to her sweaty skin. 

W.S. pulled her upright with a firm grip and made her move out of the room and the pizzeria. It took zero effort on his part, even with her trying to discreetly pull her arm free. Frustration ignited a spark within her, but she kept her mouth shut until they were outside in the fresh air of early morning still dark with night.

The men and women were getting in their cars, silent but for the shuffling of bodies and the engines revving to life. The mob boss gave Jane one long look before climbing into the back of his black SUV. 

Whispering furiously, she asked, "Who are you, how do you know me, and what the hell was all of that?"

"Quiet." He turned away from her car parked in the front of the building to walk toward the back. 

Images of him strangling her to death, nearly hidden from view of passersby, flashed in her mind. Adrenaline hit her body like a jolt of caffeine and sent her twisting out of his grip and running for her life, screaming for help. Except, she only had enough time to take two steps and open her mouth before he covered it with a hand and pulled her into him with a strong arm wrapped around her midsection. 

"I said be quiet." His voice was low and soft, not angry or threatening. As soon as he finished speaking, he let her go. 

The surprise release, coupled with her thrashing about, made her stumble forward and fall to her hands and knees. She blinked at the pitted asphalt. Just what was going on?

Keys jingled, then the car alarm beeped, and the door opened. "Get in."

She sat back on her heels and looked at him over her shoulder. "Who are you?"

His lips thinned, but he breathed out and said, "I'm not going to kill you, and I'll explain everything in a moment. Just get in the car."

Climbing to her feet, she debated whether or not she could make it to her car if she ran, but decided against it. He'd already proven himself to be faster and stronger than her. She turned to him, lifted her chin, and slipped into the passenger side. 

As he sat in the driver’s seat, she tried buckling herself up, but her fingers wouldn't stop shaking. She glared at them, willed her hands to be still, and got nothing in response. 

"It's just adrenaline." He reached over her to catch the seatbelt. "It'll pass."

She flattened herself against the seat and looked out the window. It was too late, though. She saw the clear blue of his eyes and felt the warmth of his skin brush against hers. He was handsome. Far more handsome than anyone she came into regular contact with. 

Once she was buckled, he drove out of the parking lot and onto the street. "We'll come back for your car later."

"Who are you? How do you know me?" She twisted in her seat to fully glare at him. "And what the hell is going on?"

"My name is James Barnes. I'm an undercover agent for SHIELD. I know you because I know all of the presenters at the convention, just like I know all of the guards and staff down to the janitors." He made a sharp turn around a corner. "That was a secret meeting of the East Coast mobs. Wilson Fisk is their leader. He wants us to steal something that is hidden under the convention center. Something that is highly classified. I'm not even sure how he knows of it."

The buildings passing by were a blur. "And I somehow managed to sneak in."

"Did you order a large with extra pineapple and anchovies?"

She nodded. 

"That was today's passphrase. I'm taking you to a contact." They sat, idling at a stoplight. "She'll get you to safety."

"But my work. And what about you? If you show up tomorrow without me, the jig will be up."

He chuckled. "I'll be fine, doll. I always am."

The euphemism grated her. "I'm not a doll. Besides, I'm not leaving my life's work behind. And there's no way in hell you're sticking me in a witness protection program as a librarian assistant or something." She shook her head. "No, you're going to take me back to wherever you're staying, and we're going to figure this out."

He looked at her far longer than he should've while driving. A corner of his mouth lifted before he faced forward again. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into, but okay. Things will go easier if you're there to let me in."

It took all of five minutes, with her life flashing before her eyes, for him to make a u-turn, speed pass the pizzeria, and pull into the driveway of a normal-looking house in an everyday, run-of-the-mill neighborhood. No one was out at this ungodly hour, and only a few dogs barked as they walked through the front door. 

The odd alarm on the entryway wall beeped with each digit he tapped, apparently, not to turn it off, but to initiate some kind of special security. The already-closed blinds seemed to lock onto themselves, sealing in the room's light, and a low hum filled the air. 

"We're secure now," he said, then moved to the flat screen TV and turned it on. "Here’s what I have."

With a swipe of his hand, images appeared on the large screen. He flicked his fingers, flipping through the images as he went on. "There's an object SHIELD can't let anyone get their hands on. Of course, that's what Fisk is after."

"Then why hasn't it been moved?"

"We have a mole. We need to find out who he is and take down the Kingpin." He paused, stopping on a image of the bald, cigar-smoking mob boss. "That's what they're calling Fisk. He's grown into a big enough threat that the local police, even the FBI, can't handle him. He's untouchable, keeps his hands clean of any of his messes."

She was finally understanding. "But now, he's willing to get personally involved." She walked to his side and took control of the motion sensors. Tossing all of the images, she searched for—and found—the highly-classified object Fisk was after. Without realizing it, she stepped closer to the screen, swishing her hands, swirling her wrists, flaring and pulling in her fingers, completely engrossed in all of the documents she'd found. They called it the Tesseract. 

"This," she said, pointing to the blue cube, "is remarkable. Based on the energy output, it's capable of powering all the major cities in the world. It's free, sustainable energy..." She drifted off, thinking of her work. Her arms fell to her sides. "It'd even power an Einstein-Rosen Bridge."

"I don't know anything about that." He took over and pulled up plans for a machine—no, a weapon. "What I do know is that Fisk wants to put HYDRA to shame."

"Why?" At the touch of a button, he could kill millions upon millions with the device, obliterate whole countries. It would be easy, cheap, and clean—no nuclear fallout. 

"Power."

He'd certainly have it, and then some. "How do we stop him?"

"You get me inside, and then I'll do the stopping." He turned off the TV. "Now get some rest. We leave in a couple hours."

"But—"

"There's a guest room down the hall on the right."

She stood, uncertain if she trusted him enough to fall asleep in his vicinity. He could very well be the mole. 

He watched her for a long moment, then slipped a slender knife out from somewhere on his lower back and held the hilt end toward her. "If it'll make you more comfortable, lock the door and sleep with this."

Biting her lower lip, she stared at the simple knife, sleek but sturdy looking. The overhead lights glinted off the silver metal. Before she could talk herself out of it, she reached out her hand and gripped the hilt. He let go as soon as she had a firm hold, and she almost dropped it. The knife might've been small, but it was still heavy. 

"You know how to use that?" he asked. 

"A little." Beyond stabbing someone with the pointy end, she knew nothing. 

He chuckled. "Yeah, okay. Just don't kill yourself."

Grumbling, she turned and stalked off in the direction he'd pointed. 

The bathroom was stocked full of toiletries, for which she was grateful. One thing she could not stand was going to bed without her routine. Five minutes later, she curled under the covers, knife staring at her on the nightstand, and fell right to sleep. 

A knock on the door had her bolting upright with her heart in her throat. Her gaze darted around the unfamiliar room, then landed on the knife. The weapon jarred loose all of yesterday's happenings, and she hopped out of bed.

"Just one moment," she called, scrambling to get ready. It didn't take much. She'd slept in her clothes and had brought no makeup to apply. After one glance in the mirror, she avoided looking at it again. Her jeans and t-shirt were rumpled, her hair was a frizzy mess, and dark circles lined her eyes. Even she thought she was not fit to give a presentation. 

_Nothing for it, though._ She grabbed the knife and her purse, and walked toward the smell of coffee wafting through the house. Her stomach grumbled. She never did get to eat last night. 

"My colleague dropped off an outfit and some things for you," James offered instead of a greeting. He sat at a little table, long hair tied back, with a bowl of cereal in front of him, completely relaxed, as if this was another ordinary day. Never mind they were about to double cross a powerful crime lord. 

Her feet stumbled. "What?"

"Clothes. Makeup. Hair stuff." He pointed a gloved finger toward the coat closet. "There." 

Wondering why he constantly wore the dark gloves, she decided to ask, but he'd already went back to eating as if she wasn't there. A hint of a smile seemed to play on his lips. Jane watched a moment longer, then chalked it up to a trick of lighting and made her way to the closet. 

Sure enough, a silk blouse and pencil skirt were hung above a bag of cosmetics and a pair of heels she wasn't certain she could actually walk in. Whoever brought her the outfit had more style than Jane had ever hoped to obtain, let alone fake. With a sigh, she gathered the clothes and retreated back to the bedroom to change. 

"Who brought all of this and how did they know my size?" she asked when she came back in. 

"Romanoff, an old friend." He looked up from his bowl and blinked at her. After clearing his throat, he continued. "She saw a picture of you and just knew."

Jane wobbled as she walked to the table and dropped into the chair. "Well, she must not know I don't do heels."

"I'll be sure to inform her." He smiled, and she tore her gaze off the sparkle lighting up his blue eyes to stare at the cereal box. Cinnamon Toast Crunch? For some reason, she'd expected him to be a Wheaties fan. 

As she filled the empty bowl and her grateful stomach, they went over the plan five times forwards and backwards. He wanted it ingrained so she wouldn't skip a beat and cast suspicion upon them. 

"What do you do if one of Fisk's goons stops you?" he asked as he loaded himself with guns and knives. 

She watched with amazement. Partly because she didn't think it was possible to hide that many weapons, but mainly because there'd been several times he'd had to lift his long-sleeved shirt to secret them away, exposing very thick but very defined abs. She wouldn't have been surprised if he had an eight pack instead of six. 

"Well?" he asked. 

"Oh, don't run," she answered while focusing smoothing her skirt, rather than on how incredibly broad his shoulders were. "Act confident, tell him you found a breach and are reporting it."

He nodded and they continued on, even as they drove to the convention center. It wasn't until they were walking to the side entrance, that he grew quiet, hefting the box that was part of his cover over his shoulder like a delivery man. 

She fished her badge out of her purse and scanned it. The door unlocked with a beep. Taking a deep breath, she moved inside, doing her best not to act differently than she had for the past couple days. Her heart fluttered high in her chest, though, and she saw the bogey man in every shadow. Several of her colleagues passed, but they either didn't recognize her in tailored clothing or they were too in their heads to notice anything besides where they stepped. 

When James entered her equipment room, he placed the box on a table with glances up at the corners and around the walls. She wasn't certain what he was looking for, but there was not much to see. It was practically a storage room: no windows, one exit, shelving units, tables, and electricity. 

He looked at her like he wanted to say something. The air hung heavy in the room. She was trapped in his gaze, but he exhaled, walked out of the room, and closed the door before she could move. Metal crunched on the other side, and Jane flew to the door, grabbing at the handle. It wouldn't budge. Throwing all of her weight into it, she hit the door with her shoulder several times, all to no avail. 

_That rat bastard._

She paced the room for what felt like hours, occasionally hitting on the door and yelling for someone to help her. The blasted thing wouldn't even rattle and she doubted her voice carried through the thick wood enough to get a passerby's attention. He'd even snuck her cell phone out of her purse. 

_That tricky rat bastard._

It was in a moment of bitter acceptance, sitting in a chair with her head on the table, that she thought of the Tesseract, of Fisk and his objective. The mole had given him the design plans on a machine that dampened the power of the artifact, keeping it from releasing gamma radiation while hiding its presence. He'd have to disable it to remove the Tesseract and secret it away. 

She sat up, spine rigid with grim realization. Except, he had it wrong. 

Throwing back the lid of a box, she pulled out some of her papers and turned them over to the blank side to work out the math on. She scribbled furiously, pausing occasionally to think through a different equation, and continuing on. 

Jane leaned back in her chair and scrubbed a hand over her face. Her mouth had gone dry as she solved the puzzle and was now a desert. 

The specs were indeed flawed. Instead of turning the machine off, it would amplify the artifact's power enough to turn it into a crude version of the very bomb Fisk wanted to make, blowing everyone in the building—hell, the city—up and killing Fisk, the heads of his East Coast mobs, and even SHIELD. The director was overseeing this operation personally, James had said. 

The mole had to have been a HYDRA agent. They were the only ones who'd benefit from crippling two major organizations that threatened their power and influence. 

Jane stared at the door. She had to get out of the equipment room. If she was smart, she'd get out of the building and the city before it was vaporized. Her gaze drifted around, following the same path James' had, and landed on a vent in the ceiling. 

She shook her head. She was no hero. This was beyond her. She had no gun or knife, not that she'd know how to use them if she had. She couldn't fight, and she couldn't seduce a frog to do her bidding, let alone a mobster or SHIELD agent. 

Despite all of that, she found herself kicking off her heels, pushing the table under the vent, and stacking a chair on top to help her reach the ceiling. Jane lifted to her tiptoes, stretching her five-foot two frame to its fullest. Her fingers grazed the metal vent, and she pushed it up enough to grip the edge. One small hop had her dangling like a cracked branch in the wind. Her muscles strained to lift her, but she simply lacked the upper body strength to do anything more than the simplest of tasks. 

It took several more stacked chairs and sheer stupidity to climb the precarious structure she'd built and slither into the ventilation shaft. The tight space coupled with the sheet metal groaning even with her slight weight, made her scoff at all the movies that had full grown men doing this.

The horizontal passage wasn't long, ending in a hallway before it curved upwards. 

Jane stared at the ground, deciding whether or not she should stay right where she was until someone happened to walk by and could help her. Except, that person could be one of Fisk's lackeys and kill her as soon as they realized something was awry. 

Closing her eyes, she maneuvered her feet out first and let herself fall to the ground. She crashed hard on her bare feet and then landed on her bottom with a bone-jarring impact that left her stunned and breathless. It wasn't until footsteps rang out in the hallway that she picked herself up, groaning from the bruises and scrapes she'd acquired, and hobbled toward the basement. 

Thankfully, mostly everyone was at the main convention center, leaving this portion of the building practically empty. She straightened and put on a bright smile for anyone who did happen to pass her. They never noticed her shoeless state. 

The elevator ride down was, thankfully, uneventful, and she hoped her luck would hold long enough to find James. All she had to do was tell him what she'd discovered, then she could hightail it out of there. 

The metal door slid open to reveal a man with a gun at the ready. His business suit announced him as one of Fisk's men. 

Jane eased back to hit another floor's button, but he warned her not to move. She lifted her hands, praying to anything out there for the door to hurry up and close on its own. 

"Out," he commanded. 

She grimaced, but did as he said. 

"What are you doing here?"

The door closing behind her held all of her attention enough for him to hurl the question at her again with more force. 

She swallowed. "I. Um..."

He placed the barrel of the gun at her head. No other sensation existed outside of the cool metal pressed against her flushed skin. If she peed herself, she might not even notice it.

"You gonna answer me?" he asked. "Or am I gonna have to shoot you?"

"There's a flaw in the plans," she blurted out. 

"What?"

"If Fisk tries to power off the device holding the Tesseract, he'll only trigger it to blow."

He pressed the gun harder against her head, making her rock back to her heels. "How do you know about that?"

"Did you not hear me?" she snapped back. "If he tries to turn it off, we're all dead."

He watched her, face a mask. 

"I'm Dr. Jane Foster—"

"I know who you are," he cut her off, and she finally recognized him as one of the guards in the the meeting. He ground his teeth for a long moment, but then he pulled back and shoved her to stand in front of him. The gun was placed against her back, and he nudged her forward. "This way."

After rounding a corner, they entered a large room filled with more people than she'd assumed would be there. Unfortunately, a lot of those people were dead on the floor: men and women in business suits and black combat gear. Bullet holes pockmarked the walls, tables had been overturned, and shell casings glittered on the floor like fallen confetti. 

Worse yet, James was on his knees with a gun pressed to the back of his head. A man wearing an eyepatch was right next to him, the director she assumed. Both were staring at her, both were gagged and bound. 

Fisk paused, hand hovering near the controls of the tall machine housing the glowing blue Tesseract. None of the pictures had captured its spectacular otherworldly quality. 

"What is the meaning of this interruption?" the mob boss asked. 

"She found something." The man behind her shoved her forward. James' eyes shone with deadly anger, while the director's held a calculating gaze. 

All in one breath, she explained what she'd found. 

Fisk looked from her to the artifact, then backed away. "Fix it," he demanded. 

She shook her head, but before she could explain herself, he aimed his gun at her and yelled the order again. 

Flinching, she turned away from the angry man, heart pounding so hard her ribs might crack any moment. The guard behind her pushed Jane forward and kept doing so until she was close enough to see the artifact swirl and pulse, as if it was more than an inanimate object. 

"Fix it, and you live," Fisk said, walking away from her toward the kneeling men.

"But—"

He pointed his gun at James' head. "Or not, and this one dies. You have one minute to decide." 

"You don't understand. I only found the flaw. I don't know how to fix it."

Ignoring her, he continued. "And for every minute that passes, one more dies."

She hadn't realized it before, but now that he waved a hand in their direction, she saw a bound redhead with eyes that blazed like furnaces and an unconscious man with short cropped hair and a broken bow near his feet. There were others too. She didn't know how they had all been bested, not with only a handful of guards and Fisk and—

A man in a long coat and a beanie cap stepped out from behind the pillar. With the way he watched her, like an assassin looking through the sights of a rifle, she wouldn't have been surprised if there'd been a red dot on her forehead. He moved like James, all deadly self assurance, but his held the taint of unpredictability.

"If their deaths aren't enough incentive, Dr. Foster," Fisk said, "I'll let Bullseye here, have you."

The man in question walked to her, took off his cap to expose a bullseye carved into his forehead, and gave her a broad smile, though it too was off. 

Jane did her best not to show fear, yet her hands shook. Clenching them into fists, she spun away from him and faced the machine housing the Tesseract. 

While she had some experience with designing and building equipment for her projects, she would not call herself a mechanical engineer. But she knew the math, she knew the flaw, all she needed to decide was whether or not disabling it was a good idea. If Fisk had the Tesseract, the world would be his. That wasn't acceptable. Perhaps she could lessen the amplifier. It would cause only a small explosion, one that would kill everyone in the room. But could she really do that? Kill herself? Kill James?

"Thirty seconds," Fisk announced. 

Queasiness overcame her. She had to make a decision.

"Fifteen seconds."

Kill everyone or doom the world?

"Ten, nine, eight, seven—" 

"All right!" she shouted. "I'll do it."

He pulled the gun back. "You have five minutes."

"I can't do anything without my tools."

Scowling at her, he waited, most likely to see if she was testing him. 

"I'll need to make some adjustments to the configuration of the panels, as well as reprogram the computer." She went on, throwing in a string of words that would surely confuse him into submission. 

With glazed-over eyes, he nodded for someone to gather her things from her equipment room. She offered to go with them, to make sure they got exactly what she needed, but he just laughed at her. 

As they waited, Fisk sat contentedly on a chair, smoking a cigar. Bullseye stalked the room, eyeing everyone and everything. The henchmen stood stiff, jerking at every drip of the water pipes and groan of the building. Jane watched James, trying not to think about what she was about to do. She would've liked to have known him better. He seemed kind, noble even, and maybe it was nothing at all, but she felt like there was something there between them, something that could've been great. 

The doors opened and two men carrying boxes came in. They placed them on the table with a sigh of relief, then rolled their shoulders. Her equipment wasn't made out of fiberglass, that was certain. 

"Five minutes, Dr. Foster," Fisk reminded her, as if she'd somehow forgotten the situation she was in. 

Jane pulled her tools out of one box and lifted her old project out of another. She'd have to reconfigure it to hook into the containment unit, but that wouldn't be too difficult. The challenge was something else all together. Unfortunately, there was nothing she could do about it, so she focused on the task at hand. 

"What is that?" the mob boss asked as she unscrewed her device to open a portion of it wide enough to fit the artifact. 

"It'll dampen the Tesseract's power in case my math is wrong and the computer tries to kick the artifact into overdrive," she lied. 

He grumbled but said nothing else. 

It took every last second of her deadline to get everything ready. Now, it was all about timing. And luck. She needed that most of all. 

"It's done?" Fisk asked. 

"Yes. If this works, the Tesseract will transfer to this portable stabilizing unit." She kept her face free of deceit as she stood at the device, ready for the artifact to fall in place, then gestured to the machine's computer system. "All you have to do is hit 'enter.'"

"That's it?"

She nodded. 

"Then why don't I catch it and you mess with the computer?"

"Because I haven't had the time to properly study this object of immense power. There has been no testing of my theories with math or experiments. Anything can happen, and I need immediate access to this device to make any split-second changes, so we don't all die." She stressed the last part with a straight-on stare. If he didn't believe her, then her plan would fail. 

His cigar broke in his tightening grip and his nostrils flared as he glared at her, leaving her to wonder if he'd ever been talked down to. Without saying a word, though, he stepped to the computer. 

Jane glanced at James. He hadn't struggled once against his captors, hadn't tried to talk around the gag. He just knelt there watching everything as if they were putting on a play for him and he wasn't interested. She narrowed her eyes at him, but was forced to look away when Bullseye stepped between them, twirling a pencil between his fingers. 

"Found it," Fisk said.

She blinked and refocused on her device. "Good. On my count, press the button."

When she reached 'one,' the lights dimmed, the steady background hum silenced, and the Tesseract fell from the machine into her device. She snapped the panel over it, securing its place, and took in James one last time. 

If luck was on her side, she'd see him soon enough. If not, then at least he would be alive and Fisk would not be in control of the Tesseract. No one would. 

She ignited the Einstein-Rosen Bridge and vanished from the room. 

One moment she was in the basement, the next she was in James' house, which was good. The only problem was the portal. It wasn't closing. The hole, blurry around the edges, crackled with blue lightning. Her hair fluttered toward the opening as if it was trying to close in on itself, but couldn't.

Without iridium, the portals would be unstable. She was lucky it hadn't collapsed while she was inside, but this wasn't any better. 

She darted to the TV, motioned for it to turn on, and searched through the files, trying to find a number or address to contact SHIELD. They had to be nearby, watching the building. Why they hadn't sent in reinforcements was beyond her, but maybe if she—

The portal fizzled and groaned. 

Jane turned to see why it was acting strangely. 

The blurred edges expanded and contracted. Something small stretched toward her, moving as if in slow motion. Time seemed to exist differently in it. Curious, she stepped closer. The object was yellow and long. Her eyes widened. 

The pencil. 

She leapt out of the way, igniting the Bridge once again, just as the pencil speared a picture on the wall and as Bullseye appeared. 

A fancy living room lurched at her arrival. The cream-colored furniture shifted backwards, screeching on the hardwood floors. A wall of windows overlooking Manhattan filled the large space with natural light. 

Alarms followed a woman's surprised gasp. 

Jane spun to find a tall redhead in a sleek business suit staring at her. The man beside her, bearing the infamous goatee of Tony Stark, pressed the bracelets at his wrists. Pieces of his suit flew through the air, snapping into place one at a time. 

The portal behind her groaned again, and Jane shouted for the couple to get out of the way. 

This time, bullets stretched through the warped space-time continuum.

In a matter of seconds, his completed suit shone with the power of the mini arc reactor in his chest. He stepped in front of the redhead, Pepper Potts, if Jane remembered correctly, and the bullets pinged off his suit to collide with walls and furniture. 

Bullseye jumped out of the portal with a maniacal smile, whopping as if he'd ridden the best roller coaster of his life. He opened his mouth to speak, but a blast from Iron Man had him leaping out of the way instead. 

"Mind telling me what this is about?" Stark's amplified voice asked. "And who you people are?"

Pepper was already out of the room by the time he finished talking. 

"Jane Foster. I have the Tesseract," she said in a rush, lifting the Bridge for him to see. "Wilson Fisk wants it. SHIELD is down, and I'm trying to get help."

Each short sentence was punctuated by bullets from Bullseye that resulted in her crouching behind a bar's counter while the two men fought. 

"Who's this guy?" Stark asked, his repulsors whining, ready to fire. 

"Bullseye," the off-putting man answered for himself. "You, I will kill for free."

Jane peeked over the edge of the counter to catch him unloading his gun on Iron Man. Most had no effect, merely bouncing off the armor, but each shot fired seemed to be a test, searching for a weak point. 

As Bullseye spun out of the way of Iron Man's own attack, he reloaded his guns. The movement was effortless, and by the time he faced Stark again, his weapons were raised and firing off another round. The bullets hit Iron Man in the lit-up eyes of his red and gold helmet. At first nothing happened, but then, they cracked and sparked. 

Stark covered his head. But it was too late. The eyes were no longer functional. 

Jane's insides knotted up. She considered jumping to another location, but she needed Stark. And she didn't want to be the one who got him killed. 

Forcing her legs to work, she crawled to the edge of the bar and jumped to Stark, thinking of the tall building she saw in one of James' files. 

The Bridge sent them from one place to the next, along with the bullets Bullseye fired at them. 

They landed in the lobby of a cavernous room near a towering eagle statue. People scattered at their sudden appearance, and Jane sucked in a breath. Her side ached like she'd been stabbed with a hot iron poker. 

"You're hurt," Stark said in his normal voice. 

Jane looked up to see his broken helmet on the floor beside him. She tried to move, but the pain in her side ignited to an inferno. "We have to get back. They need help. And he'll be through the portal any moment." 

The one good thing she'd come to realize was that while they traveled instantaneously, Bullseye's path was slower, most likely because he didn't have the Bridge. 

"Cap should be here." He yelled at everyone to evacuate the space, then looked off to the side and nodded to someone. "He's coming," Stark told her. 

"Good." She clenched her side, doing her best not to focus on the warm liquid seeping through the wound there, and managed to get to her feet with his help. "You stay here, out of the way. I'll make another jump. He'll be distracted by the portal." A spike of pain forced her to pause. "Get rid of him." 

Without waiting for a response, she teleported to her New Mexico lab, almost collapsing when she landed. It took a long moment for her to take her focus off the pain, off the frantic beating of her heart, and on to jumping back to the building. 

This time when she landed, Jane did collapse.

A pair of strong arms caught her. Captain America, in his blue mask, looked down at her with even bluer eyes, filled with concern and determination. "Is Bucky there?" 

She had no idea who that was, and she lacked the breath to tell him so. 

"It'll be all right, kid," Stark said, placing some kind of cream in her wound. It burned worse than if he'd stuck his hands in there and signed the National Anthem. 

She gasped, flinching away from his touch, but Captain America held her still. "This will stop the bleeding," he explained. 

Stark placed a bandage on her side and continued on. "Bullseye is out, and we'll stop Fisk. You just have to get us there. You think you can do that?"

Black spots dappled her vision, but she nodded, hoping she wasn't too late. They could all be dead by now.

Placing her on her feet, Rogers gripped his shield while still supporting her weight. Stark held her other arm. The gunshot wound tingled with some kind of numbing agent. The searing pain was already halfway gone. 

"Ready when you are," Captain America said. 

The Tesseract lit up, and they were in the basement of the convention center. Only, it was a very different scene from when she was last there. 

Instead of James on his knees with a gun to his head, he stood over Fisk, reversing their situation. Blood splattered his face, his hair had come free of the ponytail, and his shirt had torn, exposing a metal arm that gleamed in the overhead lights. 

All the other henchmen seemed to have been taken out by the redhead and the man who'd been unconscious earlier. The woman zip tied a man's wrists, then looked up at Jane, Stark, and Rogers and flashed them a wry smile. "A little late."

"Better late than never," Stark replied. 

Rogers stared at James. "I thought you said this mission would be a breeze."

"It was." His chuckle died, when he took in Jane's blood-soaked blouse and skirt. He left Fisk and ran to her, lifting her shirt to see the bandage. He sighed, but his eyes blazed. "You—"

"Don't start with me, mister. Locking me in that room. You had no right." 

Rogers slipped away from them.

"And if it wasn't for me," she added, "we'd all be dead right now."

He gripped her arms, one hand, warm and soft, the other, cold and hard. The heat in his eyes melted her ire. He looked at her lips, and she licked them without thinking. 

"You were fantastic," he finished what he'd tried to say. 

She blinked at him, but the director cleared his throat. 

"Think you can close those things before people start falling through them?" he asked. His voice was just as gruff as his appearance. 

James stepped back to give her room.

"Yes, but I need iridium," she answered. "The Bridge won't function properly without it."

As he motioned her forward, already talking into his earpiece, James began to walk to the exit. 

"Where are you going?" she asked him. 

"I need to find the double agent. They're probably already on the run."

Jane stood there, uncertain of what to say. She would most likely never see him again. 

"Can I— Do you think— I mean, would it be okay if I contacted you? When I'm done with this?" he asked. 

Someone snickered, but Jane smiled. "Of course." Before he could escape through the doors, she asked, "But how will you find me?" She had no idea where she would be in the next hour, let alone the next week or two. 

"Don't worry about it. Just expect a handsome man to show up on your doorstep with flowers."

"Won't that make you jealous, Barnes?" the redhead teased. 

"This isn't playtime." The director frowned at all of them. "We have work to do."

By the time Jane glanced at James, he was already gone. 

She looked from the doors swinging shut, to the destroyed room filled with the Avengers, and down to the Bridge in her hands. All of this happened because she ordered a damn pizza with extra anchovies and pineapples. 

A corner of her mouth lifted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, that was long. I just kept writing and writing and writing. Lol. And this one is from another prompt about the character ordering a pizza and it being a passphrase for a pizzeria front.
> 
> Thanks for reading and for all the comments for the last time chapter. I'm glad everyone really liked it. It makes all the time and effort worth it.
> 
> My sister and my beta, Mercury97, really helped with this one, though they always do, and I appreciate it.
> 
> Up next: Lokane, it's for the lokane gift exchange I'm a part of this year.


End file.
